


Distractions

by knightedmoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Students, a whole fic just for one moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28598037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightedmoon/pseuds/knightedmoon
Summary: Hermione should really learn that she won't really be able to get anything done in the Great Hall. Especially if Draco decides to show up.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first dramione fic and I love this ship so much, I've been consuming it for weeks so I thought I'd try my hand with something short and sweet.
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this to my friends [katschako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katschako) and [crystymre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystymre/pseuds/crystymre) for getting me into dramione and feeding my hyper fixation. I love you guys.

Hermione blindly reaches out for her pumpkin juice, careful not to overshoot and accidentally spill it all over the table. She grips the cup in her hands and brings it to her lips without looking at it. She’s been writing this essay for Muggle Studies for the past hour or so, having already finished her advanced Arithmancy homework.

She sets the cup down in the table once again and reads over her last few sentences, trying to connect her thoughts to what she might think will be the start of a conclusion.

Even after all these years, Hermione still loves studying and doing her homework. It’s comforting. The Great Hall is always one of Hermione’s favorite places to study. It’s not at all quiet. It’s not cold, but it isn’t exactly warm either. The benches of Gryffindor are hard and worn down, and Harry’s constant tapping of his fingers is a bit of an irritation. Despite all these imperfections, there’s something magical about the space-- and that’s not because it’s a wizarding and witchcraft school.

If she really needed to focus, she would have gone to the library or found some nook or cranny in the castle quiet enough to let her scribble furiously onto her parchment as the words flowed out of her.

However, her favorite distraction, one that consumes her thoughts more than her beloved school work, answers to the name of Draco Malfoy.

Yes, Draco Malfoy. Her boyfriend of a few months, but friends since Fourth Year. He apologized for calling her a mudblood, a bitch, and some other things he said behind her back (then he apologized all over again for even bringing them up). Not long after, they bonded over their shared love of literature and potions. They had more in common than they realized.

He’s still an arse, always reminding her what a know-it-all she is, and calling her Gryffindor’s Princess. However, he defended her to anyone who had something rude to say about her.

He’s still Harry’s enemy. Well, enemy is such a strong word. He and Harry have some sort of rivalry, but it’s friendly enough that they can get along if they’re in Hermione’s presence. Harry had told her about (very) few instances where they managed to coexist without trying to harm or maim each other.

In fact, Harry is the only one who knows about Hermione and Draco being officially together.

The whole ordeal had happened unexpectedly. 

She and Draco were at the Three Broomsticks drinking like they always did, talking like they always did. Laughing like they always did. 

What didn’t always happen was the silence after a particularly funny joke.

What didn’t always happen was Draco standing up and sliding into her side of the booth next to her. Their elbows were touching, thighs and knees so close together Hermione could feel his body heat radiating off of him. She could see his normally steel eyes soften into something of a natural grey with tiny flecks of silver around the edges. 

What didn’t always happen is that he kissed her. His lips tasted like firewhiskey and sugar and mint. The sugar, she could place: he always had some candy in his pocket that he ate when he was bored or anxious. The mint was a mystery to her. But the mystery made it that much more thrilling.

When they pulled away, Draco looked tense, his eyes flicking from her mouth to her eyes. “Tell me that wasn’t a mistake,” he whispered.

Hermione couldn’t form words at the time. For once, she was rendered speechless. She feared she might say something completely ridiculous anyway. She simply shook her head and leaned in for more. Actions spoke louder than words, after all.

Hermione found that kissing Draco brought her as much satisfaction, if not more, than studying. It was fun. It was exhilarating. It was intoxicating.

If she were to tell her twelve-year-old self that she’d be snogging Draco Malfoy in her fifth year, she would have laughed in her own face and called herself an idiot.

Few would have ever expected it, despite their friendship. She's the brightest witch, and a muggle-born. He's a pureblood prince. Still, they aren't going out of their way to keep it a secret. They don't have any reason to. Even if they snogged in the middle of the Great Hall, few would believe that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were an item.

For that reason, it’s much easier to sneak away after classes to snog in an alcove or an empty corridor. Easy to disappear from the Common Room and lie about where she’s going (usually the Library or Astronomy Tower) and meet up with Draco somewhere in the castle.

Hermione only told Harry because he asked. Harry was always a very perceptive boy, especially when it comes to his friends.

“Hermione,” he said, walking with her to the common room after Quidditch practice.

“Hm?”

“What’s the deal with you and Malfoy?”

Hermione felt her heart rate increase. It’s not as if she had to lie, but the question came from out of nowhere. “Me and Malfoy?”

“Yeah,” Harry lowered his voice. “It’s just that he’s watching you a lot more now lately. Like in class. And he can’t be watching me, because I know when he looks at me.” He stopped walking, and so did Hermione. “And I think I’ve noticed you watching him too. Is there something going on? Are you okay?”

Hermione opened her mouth but paused. It wouldn’t do him any good to dance around the issue. He and Draco were getting along a lot more recently…

“Oh, right, um,” Hermione nodded, blushing slightly. “Yes, there is something going on,”

Harry looks at her expectantly.

“Malfoy— Draco and I are… dating.”

“Dating,” Harry echoed.

“Yes. Dating.”

Harry was silent for a moment. He seemed to be working through something in his head.

“Harry?” Hermione asked carefully.

“You do know what you’re doing, right?” Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. I’m not a child, Harry I know what I’m doing.”

“And you’re happy? He makes you happy?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded without hesitation. “Yes, he makes me happy. I like to believe I make him happy too.”

Harry sighed and smiled. “Well, if you’re happy, Mione, then I’m happy for you.” He bumps her shoulder with his. “But just to be clear, I’ll fight for your honor if I have to.”

Hermione laughed. “I should hope we don’t have to resort to that but I appreciate the thought.”

Harry’s the only one that knows about them. Well, at least Hermione _thinks_ he’s the only one. Certainly the only one in Gryffindor house. She thinks Theodore Nott might know, based on the way he glances at them whenever she and Draco pair up together in class sometimes, but who knows?

A shadow overcomes Hermione and her homework, robbing her of the warmth of the sun. Harry glances up from his work wordlessly.

“Drowning in all that paper yet, Granger?”

Ah, so the loudest, most handsome distraction has finally arrived. Hermione doesn’t look up from her essay at all, merely poises her hand to write. “Not yet, Malfoy,”

Draco chuckles and brushes her wild curls behind her shoulder, tucking stray ones away from her face with his fingers. He bends at the waist and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her ear.

A shiver races its way down Hermione’s spine. She smiles, feeling her face warm, and tilts her head up towards him so he can kiss her cheek this time, and he does so.

Draco stands to his full height again and smoothly puts his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “When you’re finished, you’ll let me copy?”

Hermione laughs, stopping her hand before it writes Draco’s words instead of her own. “Not a chance, Draco. I’m not your cheat sheet.”

“Worth a try,” he sighs. He places one last quick kiss on the top of Hermione’s head before turning and exiting the great hall.

Hermione shakes her head and reminds herself of the sentence she wanted to write before she was so rudely (and pleasantly) interrupted. Before she could even put her quill to the parchment, Harry clears his throat.

“Hermione,”

Hermione sighs and scribbles out her sentence before it’s lost again. “Yes, Harry?”

“Draco Malfoy just kissed you in front of everyone,” he says. A fact, not a question.

“Hm,” she agrees. Well, of course he did. Who else would he be kissing? Besides, it’s not like Harry didn’t know—

Hermione’s head snaps up and her eyes immediately find Harry’s. Then she looks around what she now realizes is an absolutely silent Great Hall. Everyone is staring at her with wide eyes and slack jaws.

_Everyone_.

“Holy shit,” Seamus says. Hermione’s attention snaps to him. “The lioness tamed the dragon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
